She is Daemon's daughter but she wants nothing from him, rides a dragon and doesn't shy away from a fight. She also hides a dangerous secret and has her own reasons for coming to King's Landing.
Aemond wonders if he can tame her.
✧...
She sits with her back to the wall, hands curled into small fists, her angry sniffling is the only sound in the room. The blood under her nose dried but it still hurts, and she can't stop the tears burning her eyes. She feels the heart booming in her chest, but she isn't sure if it's fueled by fear. This time, it might be something else.
A man stands across the room looking at the little girl, his dark-eyed gaze seton her with a weary face expression.
"This amount of tears seems a bit too much," he says wryly. "And it won't help with your nose."
She throws him an annoyed glance. The violet of her eyes shimmers brightly, catching the dim lighting of fire burning in the room. She doesn't want to talk to him just yet as if he's the one to blame for what happened. And yet she came to him on her own accord, out of habit, and his presence is somewhat helpful in dulling the pain. At least he doesn't want to hurt her, and that's as close to comfort as she can get these days.
"You need to go home, rest. It will get better in the morrow," he tells her, a bit more clement, as he turns to start the well-known routine. He goes to the other end of the room to pick some of his dinner leftovers, wraps them in a cloth, then adds a few pieces of bread. She watches him moving around, her face involuntarily frowning.
"They will come to tease me again," she complains, biting her lower lip to stop it from quivering.
"Maybe try running in the opposite direction?" he throws a couple of apples in the bag.
"There were four of them," she half-grunts, half-whimpers.
"Could've been worse, then," the man comes closer and leans down to hand her food. The girl looks at the bag and reaches for it but her hand stops midway, unsure. She hasn't had a crumb of bread since yesterday, but it's not hunger that knots her stomach — she knows that once she takes the bag, she'll have to leave. She always clings to the feeling of safety that his home brings yet it never lasts. There's no shelter for her outside these four walls, in this forest, on this mountain.
With a deep sigh, she grabs the bag.
"They will leave me alone at some point," she mutters and it sounds like she mostly wants to grant herself some reassurance but the man robs her of it.
"They probably won't," he retorts, not looking at her but sounding so confident as if he can look into the future.
She jumps on her feet before she can even realize she's doing it, her body suddenly hot, tense and trembling with emotion, bruised ribs and bloody nose completely forgotten.
"I haven't done anything wrong!"
When he does turn to the sound of her voice, she almost seems taller, and her gaze lacks any hint of vulnerability — instead, she stares at him with defiance, for the first time ever, and the change surprises him. She isn't aware of it just yet, but he knows this emotion all too well. And he thinks he's never seen anger looking this empowering.
The man keeps eye contact with her when he calmly replies:
"You are an outsider who looks nothing like them. That's enough of a reason."
She doesn't glance away even when his words settle in, echoing with pain through her heart, even when she feels her ribs aching again. But their staring contest is interrupted by a knock on the door. It's then pushed open, revealing a middle-aged woman: her long cloak undone, braided hair disheveled and cheeks red. It's obvious she ran here.
"Matthias, it's the goats again! Three this time and no one saw a thing as always! Those boneheads just can't do their job and —" she stops short, only now noticing the girl, and the woman's tone changes, evident enmity slipping into it. "Lia, it is getting late already, shouldn't you be at home? Your mother probably needs your help."
"She doesn't," the girl says bitterly, casting a displeased glance at the woman. "Or she would've told me."
"I must say, for a ten-year-old you aren't much help. When I was your age —"
"She will be ten in two moons' time," Matthias corrects, subtly ushering her out. "I'd say our goat-keepers pose a much bigger problem, wouldn't you agree? Let me just grab my coat, and we will assess the damage," with a very polite smile he watches her stepping out of the house and goes to take his outer garment.
On his way back, Matthias stops and looks at Lia, any sign of insincerity wiped off his face. He says it loud enough for her to hear:
"If you want to have a chance at escaping, do not let them get close."
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author's note: everytime there's a new character who has a name, chances are that I've updated the cast. so you can go check out how Matthias looks like ;)
